He picked the wrong girl
by Armenianamazon
Summary: Set five years after deathstroke returns. Felicity has a new name, they are on the run. Hiding out in a new town trying to find comfort in one another and make sense of this mess. Once things get comfortable past mistakes haunt them and an old threat rears it's head. Felicity centric.
1. A woman in Black

She sipped her jasmine tea thoughtfully. Swirling it momentarily in an attempt to either cool the contents somewhat, or stave off her growing boredom. She found herself wishing it was vodka inside the paper cup with Her 'name' carefully hand printed on the white lid. Hey even a good red wine was preferable.

It's not that Felicity hated her new job, to the contrary she enjoyed it much more than she ought to. She did hate the way her peers acted. She never thought this line of work was beneath her. Why these women were fighting over who is better or worse or trying to put each other down never made sense to her. After years of computers and electronics and working mostly with men and machines this was a vastly different world.

She had gone into bloomingdales and applied on a whim. She never had an interest in this feild, however she did posess a killer eye for colour. It hadn't been her goal to do so, yet she excelled quickly.

It wasn't a career choice, so much as a fleeting thought that stuck. Still she was proud to wear the white coat.

It felt familiar even though their definition of a 'computer' was way off. Thank God they started calling it a diagnostic last year. She was drawn in by how very clean it seemed, almost methodical, and it was the number one brand to work for.

She fit right in with her hair pulled back, her glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of her nose, and a pop of fuchsia lipstick on her lips.

She didn't have to change much for this work. Sure she missed he brightly colored dresses, but, there is a certain amount of power to a woman dressed in black.

She was never the type to go on a power trip even as an MIT graduate with excellent coding skills. So she was surprised to see so many women lording it over one another with little or no actual skill to back them up.

The conference room was filled with the indistinct chatter of insincere smalltalk.

Thankful that none of her assigned table mates had tryed to engage her in conversation yet, she realized that she didn't have close friends anymore. Was it totally weird that she was completely okay with that? She could see their shared similarities that way. Either that or he was beginning to rub off on her. He never made close attachments. She was his sole exception.

It was almost time to start acting. Here at these seminars she faked an interest in others. Just enough to be polite but not enough to be seen as possible friends. She used her 'girlfriending' skills that she had learned at the first sales seminar to seem more sociable, more typical. She didn't really enjoy investing time in unnecessary endeavors. If fact, she felt rude to accept a colleagues contact info, with no intent to ever actually contact them at all. She Had Been uncharacteristically quiet so far. Hopefully they thought she was just paying special attention to her notes.

In reality she was counting how long they had been at this. Almost five years. In November it will be five years on the run, and they still hadn't been found out yet. He had told her not to assume that they would stay here, she needed to be ready to pack up and start over at a moments notice. She was starting to feel like that might never happen. They had been in this town now for two and a half years. He had praised her for her ability to adapt to her now not-so-new environment.

A question was asked to the room as the seminar started. She had to remind herself not to answer it aloud out of habit. Always being the one to raise a hand first in class, always with some in-depth tidbit, quick tip, or comments on formula and application process, she had finally started to dial it down a bit.

The idea is to go unnoticed if they were going to try and stay in one place for a while. If she was being honest with herself it hadn't worked at all. Her peers more than noticed her. Some hated her thinking she was a typical goody two shoe. Others loved her fresh honest comments. More than that, her superiors had pulled her aside and asked her NOT to participate so frequently. If she admitted to him that hearing these statements had bothered her, it would mean admitting that this undercover life meant something more to her than it should have.

He had told her time and again not to form attachments, he was lucky she didn't avoid forming an attachment to him.

Mentally chiding herself for felling so domestic she thought to herself: 'What's with me lately? I am only thinking about how quickly I can make a good dinner tonight, rather than how quickly I can escape if we need to.'

She was pulled from her musings by her designated seminar partner questioning her new hair colour. She had stopped colouring it since October and it had grown down to the small of her back now. She wispered her response to her partner with a thank you at the end.

To be honest she hadn't seen her natural hair color in years. She was pleasantly surprised to see that it was a nice rich chestnut brown. She was actually enjoying it after all her years as a blonde 'Barbie' as Roy called her, plus the years in college and ever since they were on the run being a Raven haired girl. As much as she was putting this new life ON, she was actually growing more into herself, thriving despite the restrictions of a life lived looking over your shoulder.

She focused on the woman leading the room as the lights dimmed. Only a few more hours before she was back in his arms. She could pretend to pay attention as her mind drifted home.


	2. Jealous Joe

She missed his real name, the way it rolled off of her tounge. The syllables sounded all wrong now. She would be lying if she said she missed her own name half as much.

She had been happy enough to pick her own name. It was different and fun, it fit her persona. Quirkiness secretly shined through in her new title. Always a big fan of Jem and the Holigrams, she chose her moniker from Jem's true identity. The story itself played up the fun of a double life scenario.

He was more simplistic in his choice. She would never get used to calling her boyfriend 'Joe', a play off of his middle name. Never. Ever. He doesn't look like a Joe or even a Joey. She shuddered at the thought.

It was unsettling to have to call him that, but the thing she disliked most of all was not having tangible evidence of their relationship. Well she had proof, but not the kind people want. He would never allow her to keep clear photos of them together. It was too risky.

Especially if the time came to split up, temporarily, it was easier for one of them to go into hiding and wait it out. They would meet up later after their escape if one of them got caught. Having photos together made identifying the other too easy.

Still the lack of photos frustrated her. This became even more apparent when her Co-workers nagged her about her lack of social media so much that she had started an instagram.

It was mostly food, makeup, random facts, quotes, and the occasional selfie taken at an angle that would never give her away. She had fooled even the best facial recognition software. She'd know, she checked by running each one through software developed for the A.R.G.U.S. database a few times before posting. Even Donna Smoak would be fooled. It's amazing what contouring could do.

He had saved every one. After demanding that she send them to him first to be sure no one would catch on he would save it as his phone background or lock screen. He could change the pictures every day of the week if he chose. He could show the inquiring coworkers at his cover job 'His Girl' and brag.

She was slightly jealous. Some of her coworkers thought she had made him up. She had nothing to change the background on her phone to except for illustrated pandas. The only photo of them he had allowed her to keep was the first and only one they took in those first few weeks while on the run. She had complained at first because the firelight was so dim, but now she was glad she didn't delete this very photograph and try to take another since he most likely would have changed his mind.

The photo was low quality and the lighting was terrible. It perfectly hid his eyes so no one would guess who the tall muscular figure really was. In that photo they both wore bright smiles. To the untrained eye, they could be any happy couple on a camping trip.

That's what she had said it was to anyone who asked. It was a photo from their first camping trip together.

She posted it the first Monday that she found out what #MCM had meant.

But the following Mondays she was left empty handed. Oh yes, she had TRIED (key word TRIED) to sneak a picture of him years before this predicament, that was the one time she actually questioned his self control since choosing to stick with him on this crusade. She thought he might actually kill her if she tried it again. He hadn't stopped at deleting the photos of him supposedly sleeping, no, he had crushed her cellphone and threatened to make them move again for the third time in two weeks.

So without being able to participate in man-crush-monday, or twosome-tuesday, (if that was even a thing), instagram made her look pitifully single.

After thinking back on the previous incident she knew that she could never post him or one of his public photos as her man crush.

That sad fact aside she would never wound him by posting a photo of another man, even of a celebrity.

He was a very jealous lover.

. . .


	3. Discoveries

They had been lying on the couch in the cabin listening to an old FM radio a few months after they had left Starling, exploring whatever it was that they had recently become. She smiled to herself. As big as he was he loved laying on his back, with his head on her lap, like a little kid. He dwarfed her tiny frame with his legs hanging off of the couch at his knees. She was carding her fingers through his glossy black hair. It had grown, and she was checking to see if the naturally lighter roots were starting to show from any angle. He kept leaning into her touch, oblivious to her self appointed mission. After a few frustrating minutes her patience wore thin and she gave him a firm tug on the hair that she held onto, in an attempt to get him to hold still.

She wasn't expecting him to enjoy it. He let out all his breath in a loud rush.

'Oh, don't tell me that you like getting your hair pulled too?!' she said, shocked.

His head shot back to glare into her eyes. He responded quite evenly: 'Yes, very much. And I am also very jealous, so choose your words more carefully next time you compare me to another man.'

'What makes you think my other boyfriends liked this?' She challanged.

He didn't even blink as he told her: 'You said TOO, that's certainly a comparison, now I am wondering who he was, which isn't too good for HIS health.'

Her head shot back in laughter as her got more irritated waiting for her response. When she caught her breath she said: 'You are way too PARANOID for your own good. I said too because I like getting MY hair pulled.' Her face was flushed red from laughter, or embarrassment, or both. 'And now I know that you do too, so...' She trailed off.

The sound he made next was almost a growl she snapped back to attention.

'And how exactly would you know you like to get your hair tugged unless someone did it for you?'

She didn't answer.

'Nice try but you're making it worse, love.' He harshly wispered through gritted teeth. His heart rate increased to the point that she could see his jugular vein throbbing in his neck. She was trying not to laugh at him.

Being both embarrassed and excited that this jealousy was directed toward her, it was a new development, it took her a moment to react.

She knew she could drag this out and have some more fun at his expense, but she chose not to.

He would get up and run off to train again if she didn't fix it. They didn't get much downtime like this, and he was acting so vulnerable.

She decided to salvage his ego and told him the truth. I mean she was already embarrassed. The worst he could do was laugh at her, and she loved the way it sounded when he laughed, right? He hardly ever laughed since they left starling, it was a rare treat. Taking her chances she spoke without meeting his gaze:

'You are right. But I was the one that did it. I was frustrated at my servers frying after my run in with the clock king. At some point I literally started pulling my hair. About 3 miniutes into it started feeling...'

She dropped off again as He let out a deep low chuckle.

'Relaxed? ' he offered.

She was RIGHT about him laughing at her. She was WRONG about it being the worst thing, it may have actually been the best. Thankfully he dropped the subject while she went back to studying his hair.

'We're going to need another bottle of just for men soon if you're hair keeps growing out so fast.' She could have swore He had actually just pouted at her comment.

She snickered at the memory


	4. Every Man is an Island

She was starting to think social media sucked as she scrolled through her newsfeed. Throwback Thursday and way back Wednesday were confined to the last four or five years. And let me tell you, where photos were concerned, it was slim pickings. Though they had been all over the states at this point and seen many tragically beautiful scenes, the top priority had been going unnoticed not snapping photos like tourists.

It was hard not to wish that she had chronicled some of their many travels in actual photographs. Instead the images ghosted in her memory. It was important they couldn't be traced to landmarks so she rarely posted those. Natural scenes were safest. She actually preferred looking at forests or landscapes the most. It brought her back to when they had found the secret clearings in the woods, those quiet areas left untouched, unexplored by even the natives.

He had told her to think of it like camping. She preferred the term extended hiking, when she referred to the year and some months that they had been living completely off the radar. To be honest they were somewhat living off the land too, when they were first on the run.

it had suprized her that after all his time spent surviving on a hellish island, He actually seemed so at home, almost comfortable in the woods. This man was an enigma.

Everyone knew that Lian Yu had changed him. The truth that they had all overlooked was that it had assimilated him, it was now his parallel, his equal. She saw that in him. In jagged rock faces she saw his strength. The rough bark on trees and rugged terrain spoke volumes of his stubbornness. The waist high grasses that parted in front of them as they waded through, only to meet again, whole, as though they had never once been seperated, it showed a gentle heart. Much like the way he was allowing her to heal him despite the odds. Rivers and waterfalls cutting through sharp stone must be where he learned persistence, where he found the will to live that drove them.

How does the old saying go? 'Every man is an island.'

When she'd taken all she could bear, all but colapsing from the weight of their journey, from the guilt of those left behind, he was there. He remained stoic when she broke down. He never agreed when she babbled her worries, sobbing incoherently about mistakes they could never undo, but he never turned away from her either. She sought comfort in his arms like one would seek shelter from a downpour under the broadest of trees in a decidious forest, and he allowed it. At one point he began to welcome it. The stronger she became, the less she turned to him in need of support, the more willingly he had begun to offer it.

Yes, she wore hiking boots. Yes, she went weeks without real plumbing. Yes, she survived without wifi. Yes, she was even happy.

She was happy now too. This life had just seemed more complicated than the one with just the two of them.

Back than they hadn't a need for fake names, or a fake back story. There was no explaining how they met to others while carefully editing out the lies he told or the gore when he finally revealed his true identity to her. No trying to explain how their feelings developing as she helped sway him from continuing to murder.

They were an unlikely pair. He was condescending, which made her defiant. He was a charming, strong, arrogant, jerk. She on the other hand was known for being candid, clumsy, and humble, an idealist. Not many people challenged him. He was done for. Recognizing her spunk right away, and at some point becoming endeared to her. Somehow she found his heart. He had sworn he didn't have one anymore. At first she thought he was right.

After all he had put her life at risk. He had lied to her, used her, and tried to make her feel weak. Even going so far as to lie to himself about his feelings.

He knew he could never deserve her, she didn't care about that. She wanted to fix him. When he decided that she could have him, it was for her sake. A girl like that deserved to have what she wanted even if It was the wrong choice.

...

'He got the wrong girl Felicity... I love you, do you understand? ' Oliver's words echoed in her head as she waited on the stairs at the Queen mansion. She knew Slade would come for her. She knew he had been watching this whole conversation. She knew what he would think about this. Finally He would feel like a fool for once. Like he had missed something so obvious. Would it hurt him that he had been lied to?

The similarities between the two 'Brothers', between Oliver and Slade were striking. Yet their differences cut clear to the bone.

She knew what The Arrow had expected of her. She knew what Deathstroke would expect from her. What did Felicity expect from herself? What would she do under the circumstances.

Slade came to capture her in person. She didn't put up a fight. She went willingly. She had the courage to do what was necessary in her eyes, and to follow through from this moment forward. There was no going back now. Whatever happened next, this was the first step into a new life. If she survived. 'My life, My choice.' Had been her mantra for a reason.

'We are what we repeatedly do;' She whispered to herself for courage. 'Excellence than is not an act, but a habit.' He finished for her, his deep voice cutting through the cold dark air to complete the quote. They were definitely kindred spirits.

That night she took his hand and they never looked back.


	5. An odd activity called 'Couples Therapy'

After a day of smiles faker than her own and saccharine words from desperate women full of venomous lies, craving recognition for next to nothing. She had been left with a migraine. Three years ago she would have come home and wanted nothing more than a glass of red, a pint of mint chip, and time to cry it out in the shower. All she wanted now was to hit something. Hard. Repeatedly.

After eventually caving to her logic and beginning to train her, She could finally understand why all the men in her life used physical exertion as an alternative to therapy. She would take a shower only after her sweat and soreness screamed to her that she had earned it.

'Only one more shift.' She breathed. 'Tomorrow night is all that stands between me and 4 days of freedom.' She spoke softly to herself.

She cautiously toed off her heels as soon as she entered their apartment door, before freeing her hair, and stripping off her winter jacket. Mindfully removing her jewelery she tried to remember if she had hung her hand wraps up to dry after washing the sweat from them. It is ironic how the activity he was so afraid would hurt her had served to bring them vastly closer emotionally. She often joked that solving a problem was easy, they just hit on each other until they were both panting and sweating. He joked that it was the best couples therapy since it guaranteed a steamy shower together, and at least eight hours in bed.

He had taught her traditional kickboxing and Krav Maga for her own protection. It was cheaper than a therapist and more effective, she had joked. With as many secrets as they shared, it was essential as an outlet for stress, an effective form of self defense for her, and a way to communicate or offer each other comfort without words. She could read him by the nonverbal commands he gave. The position of his hands told her where to strike, and the gear he chose spoke of his temperment. If he was wearing boxing gloves than he was going to be playful, flirty even, and maybe throw a few soft jabs back to keep it fun. Hand wraps only meant he would push her harder, test her, giving signals of how and where to attack before quickly evading her strikes. Bare hands for when he was feeling guilty for something he had done. Mistakes made that hurt her and others in his past, present day regrets of forcing her to live a life on the run, cut off from those she knew were still alive and searching for her in vain, and fears of hurting her in the future with his callousness, or endangering her further by his mercenary past.

She was never scared when he trained her. With his height, his bulk and massive hands capable of torture, she should have been. He had warned her about how quickly he could end her if he lost control. He told her she should be scared. In truth he was scared of unintentionally killing her with his bare hands. Hands that would at times weild a bow, a gun, or swords, hands that had murdered so many. But she did not cower, instead she challenged him. 'Do your worst honey.' She joked. Placing a comforting hand on his arm to get his attention, she looked at him and said: 'I want this, and I trust you. I believe in you.' She had smiled at the thinly veiled horror on his face before raising an eyebrow and quipped again:

'Are you afraid I'll steal your thunder?'

After the first time he wasn't scared anymore. He really did have perfect control. By training her he regained his confidence in himself as more than a killing machine. He was more than someone who only hurt people.

He learned how lovely she could be when she was fighting. She did everything with her whole heart and soul, she worked harder than he had ever expected. He wondered how he never noticed the unfathomable depth of her dedication until now. With wisps of hair falling from her bun, framing her face, she was a force to be reckoned with. She wasn't a girl, she was a storm with skin. He was her thunder.

...

It wasn't until after she had washed her face and changed that she noticed her arrival home preceded his own. 'Huh.' She spoke aloud as she wondered where he was since she had gotten home so late. She went to check her received text messages. Nothing pending. In fact he never responded to her 'Still on the road, I will be home late. Please don't freak out and destroy the town looking for me.'text message. In another three seconds she would be the one destroying the neighborhood in her search. 'Didn't I come home aching to hit something?' She mused.


	6. Fog, Riddles and Realization

A million and one thoughts go through her mind as her heart beat starts to pick up speed. After searching their apartment and finding no sign of him she went from 'ready to tear the town apart' to 'This can't be happening.' She imagines him coming up behind her and placing his calloused hands on her shoulders, telling her to calm down. The two warring trains of thought race through her. One of fear and concern that is her very nature: 'HE found us. He found us and we aren't ready. This will only end in bloodshed.'

The second of critical thinking, tactics gleaned from years of debating with him: 'Or maybe he just missed my text. Calm down Smoak.'

She starts a mental checklist with ideas penned in the handwriting of her own mind, crossed out and overwritten with opposing thoughts that she imagines are scrawled his own spiky handwriting.

She gripped the cold porcelain sink and collected herself. With the thoughts weaving over one another fighting for dominance, She begins to weigh her conclusions using reason versus emotion cautiously: 'FACTS. Facts are your friends, always go with the facts.' She mentally coaches. 'Think, okay, what do we know? You sent that text over 2 hours ago. He HAD to have seen it by now. Was it possible that he didn't respond because he COULDN'T respond? Yes. Was it at all Probable? No. He was one of strongest men she she had ever met.' Still, this is not a typical oversight. And as much as he plays it off in public he is anything but a typical man. There was a reason for everything he did. So what are his possible reasons?

Could he be testing my restraint? Yes. Maybe he is seeing if I could track him down? No. That's not the agreement. Moreover he knows I can't track him accurately yet. More than likely this is some training of his. Did he think she would break their bond and her promise by running back to team Arrow for help? He better hadn't dare! But he is the kind of man to do this. So it's a high probability at least. Okay, if that is the case now we need a motive Smoak.'

Does he even know just what he is doing to Me right now!? She questions herself. 'Of COURSE he KNOWS.' He loves to torment me. He must have already assumed what my first reaction would be, and planned for it.'

She would not give him the pleasure of being right. He pushed her buttons. She always pushed him right back. That's why this relationship works out so well for them. They were an unexpected pair. Maybe that was the reason it had never worked out with anyone else, for either of them. Strengthening her resolve, She splashed cold water on her face and began to form a plan of action. She would pass this test, not just to make him proud, but because she could teach him a lesson in trust. First she would have to think like him. Not that it would be easy. It could be done, she would just have to go out of her comfort zone. AGAIN. He is such an enigma. She comforted herself, thinking back to one incident in particular...

Thinking that He must have been mad since she kept him waiting, she called out:

'I'm ready for you!' as she approached him with her hair already tied up in a high knot.

Instead of responding like a normal person he decided to keep his back to her and mutter something indecipherable. With her hands wrapped and gloves on, she greets him with a jab to the ribs, than ducks his usual punch and sweeps at his legs with her own out of instinct. When her leg connects with his she is surprised, his punch never came. Cheering inside, she thinks: 'I must be getting better! He usually jumps to quickly for that!'

Her victory was short lived. His hands land on her shoulders in a grip slightly rougher than normal for him. Spinning her to face him, she is startled as he half shouts:

'We're not Training together Today I said!'

If he thought she would turn tail and run at his command he had seriously underestimated one Felicity Meghan Smoak. She was just a little late, it's not that serious.

'You are not the only one with a say in my training, you know.' She snaps.

'I came home needing to blow off some steam and its obvious that you did too...grumpy.' She said gesturing to the air between them. Losing some of her gumption as she caught his glare.

'So just stop worrying about hurting me, and let's just DO IT!' she continued flustered. He arched an eyebrow at her as her words settled in her own ears

'Holy Moses, I mean let's do it TOGETHER, not just DO IT.' He didn't smile. He blinked. Slowly and with enough force to make her swear that she could HEAR him blink at her sometimes.

Sighing in frustration she pushed ahead: 'I don't mean let's "DO IT TOGETHER". Unless you think I mean it as "FIGHT TOGETHER". So, yeah, Let's fight.' Reading the cocky look he sent her way she offered: 'Or not really because you would always win. Better yet, let's TRAIN TOGETHER. Yes! That's it! TRAIN together.' Deciding that wounding his ego would not get him to concede she finished: 'Only I don't want to assume that I could help train you, because you know all the physical stuff. So really you'd be doing all the training. I can't train you. Unless it's computers because I could train you in computers since that really is not your strong suit.' She had back pedaled...but he didn't mention it.

Turning away from her, He grabbed his keys and started heading for the door.

'Hey where are we going? ' She asked as she placed her gloved fist on his arm, in a more akward than comforting gesture.

'To train. Alone.' he responded to her coolly, shrugging off her hand.

'No' She asserted.

A dark chuckle escaped him as he questioned: 'You think this is up for discussion?' he spoke low and slow to warn her.

'Absolutely. ' She affirmed. '

'Well you thought wrong.' He spat as he stalked towards her and continued his tirade. Effectively pinning her between the door-frame and the coat rack. 'I make the decisions! I know what is best for your safety. You are staying here, and I don't want to hear another word of it! You've tried my patience enough for one day.' His words drove him nearer, all but pressing her into the wall behind them with more force than necessary.

'Oh, so I get to stay here and go crazy with boredom because it's not safe for me. Which is only according to you by the way. But YOU can go out and train Alone?' She shouted at him, standing up on her tiptoes to get closer to his face.

'Paint your nails for all I care.' He said dismissively.

She eyed him suspiciously before snapping; 'What's wrong with you!?'

Being heated enough to bait him she pressed on: 'I mean aside from the obvious manpain, what is your ACTUAL problem today? I thought we were past all THIS.' She was getting damn tired of him pulling away violently after every time they made headway with their emotions.

They had bonded last night. She had started talking about her father leaving, and it led to him telling her about his time on the island. He told her how he really felt. For the first time he admitted it to himself. For as angry as he was, he really blamed himself for the death of Shadow.

To his surprise she didn't try to talk him out of anything. She listened, comforting him with her presence. She wasn't afraid to be near him and trust him after all the terrible things he had done. This girl might actually be crazier than me he thought.

Thinking like that was dangerous. He would be distracted if he allowed this to continue, meaning she would probably get killed

Wanting to lay down the law with her he was going to have to be ruthless: 'You are wasting my time.'

Knowing full well how it would hurt her but trying to drive a wedge between them for her safety he lied to her: 'We aren't making progress with your training, it's high time I focused on pushing myself by training instead.'

Not backing down she glared at him and lowered her voice: 'I don't believe you. You are lying. I won't scare that easy, and you can't make me hate you.'

'For ONCE it's the truth. ' he said trying to convince her.

'Screw you.' She snapped.

'If only you actually meant that.' he said half joking, in an attempt to scare her off. Or make her think that's all he was after.

It was in moments like these where the tension was high enough to suffocate them both, that she couldn't decide which thought was more appealing to her: Slapping some sense into him or kissing him absolutely senseless.

With her hands at her sides still in gloves leaving her unable to slap him. At least not without removing them first, she hinted at the second option: 'We could both benefit from some physical exertion, and you can't avoid me forever. We live under the same roof. We chose each other AND this life. Stop denying me because you want to deny yourself out of some twisted sense of justice.' She wasn't sure he was capable of those kind of feelings for her but she did her best to get him to manifest them, or rile him as best she could. Seeing that he was too flustered to respond she continued before her adrenaline ran out: 'I am going to go take a long hot shower, if you decide to come to your senses in the next thirty minutes, you know where you can find me.'

She turned away from him and forced herself not to check if he had followed until she actually made it into the bathroom. Immediately feeling relief that he hadn't taken her up on her offer she realized she was wearing a full blush. She jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut shortly after she stepped into the shower. Adjusting the water temperature she began to relax. After what felt like forever the warm water slowed her rapid pulse. Finishing her shower she heard the front door open again.

She was ready to hear about how long showers were a luxury she shouldn't take for granted. Rolling her eyes, she began quickly wrapping herself in a towel and stepping out. He caught her off guard storming into the bathroom covered in sweat. She moved for the sink as he began to strip and get into the shower, not waiting for her to leave. She wondered idly if all good looking men removed their shirts by grabbing the fabric at the back of their neck and tugging it off, before she turned her back to him. If he was trying to make her uncomfortable and force her out of the bathroom she wouldn't act on it. Deliberately taking her time to apply her moisturizing lotion and brush out her wet hair she forgot that she would be standing between him and the clean towels when he got out. As she plugged in her hair dryer and went to work he shut off the water. In moments he was towering behind her, reaching over her shoulder to shut off the blow dryer in her hand. He leaned in and spoke in a low voice with his hand still resting over hers on the now useless hair tool: 'Do you know how long you took in the shower?'

'30 minutes too long.' she offered, annoyed at him again.

'Wrong, 22 minutes.' he corrected.

'And?' she prompted since he clearly wasn't finished with this yet. His wet hair was dripping all over the towel she wore, defeating it's intended purpose to dry her.

'And I only took 8.' he stated, hoping she would get the hint.

'I get it you take a way quicker shower than me.' She said, Clearly not following his train of thought.

Letting go of her hand he reached for a towel and wiped the fog from the mirror in front of them, before wrapping himself in a towel. He looked at her pointedly in the mirror and spelled it out for her:

'You said you would be there for at least 30 minutes. next time you make me an offer, you might want to be more accurate with your timing.' He said as he shook out his hair and strode proudly out of the humid bathroom. Once she had been left alone with her thoughts, his words clicked into place. ..

Her reminiscing served to remind her that she could do this. She just had to figure out what was going to happen next.


	7. Lies cause casualties

With not hide nor hair of him appearing yet set she gets to work tracking the GPS on his cell. The last few locations he had stopped at should be traceable. And unless he disabled his GPS, or discarded the phone, it could tell her where he was now.

OF COURSE. At some point the GPS had been disabled. The check in service she was using traced the cell towers that he had been connected to for a given length of time. They confirmed that he had gone to his cover job this morning, stopped off for gas on his noon break, and than nothing. His signal disappears after that. OFF THE GRID. Of course he wouldn't make this easy on her. She sets up a few programs to trace his last in and outbound calls if there were any. Even scanning for Wifi calls that wouldn't normally show up connected to his network. This would take a while.

She laughs at the absurdity of it all. How different her life is now, and yet how similar it still is to her old life back at the foundry. Still hacking for a living with a phony day job. Still madly In love with a man whose morals, sanity, and communication skills were questionable. At that revelation, some long repressed nagging thoughts resurfaced. What if it was A.R.G.U.S.? What if it was the one man who knew enough about his weaknesses to kill him? What if he went off the grid and didn't want to be found? What if he was pulling away from her again? This time for good.

He knew that he was a danger to her. He would never elaborate on it, there were some things they would never talk about. She knew Oliver though. Oliver most likely thought that Slade was still out there, posing a danger to him. After all he had come back from the dead once before.

Wasn't that why they had concocted this elaborate escape plan of theirs? 'This will minimize the casualties.' he had said. Diggle, Roy, and the others would be safe because they wouldn't try to go looking for them. That's why she went along with it so easily. It wasn't just the attraction she felt or pity for him that made her an accessory to such deception. She didn't want anyone to get hurt, and she couldn't make Oliver actually choose. So they faked their own death. Felicity first, killed by the madman during the aftermath of injecting him with the cure. He would follow soon after. In a more dramatic flourish, of course. She would go for Oliver and the threat an unstable Slade Wilson had posed to the world. She stayed for herself. She went meaning to save him. He was the one who had saved her in the end.

What's wrong with fooling everyone in to believing I am dead if it meant protecting everyone that I cared for in starling and coast city that might get between Oliver and Slade?

She had made the right choice. That she was confident of that. She had picked HIM over everything and everyone else that night, after all. She would never regret doing so. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if there had been any other option than to fake their death and run. Although he swore to her that he had gotten everything what he wanted out of this now, she knew it had to hurt to be quiet about it. His pride was suffering, before time and familiarity complicated things. Before love was deep. When they left that night, it was never how she assumed it would play out at their first meeting. After he gave her the option there was no other choice in her mind. He didn't try to convince her. She convinced herself. .

In exchange for everything he was working towards, He got the girl with the glasses. But the danger was far from gone. One day he his foe would reappear. Oliver would fight bravely and Slade would kill him. If Oliver was lucky Slade would die in the process. She knew even after all of her training she was powerless to stop that battle. More than knew it, she felt it in her bones.

It dawned on her that he wasn't helping her get stronger so she could fight by his side, but so she could survive his death.

Lost in her maudlin reverie, the blinking light that should alert her to the newly received text message on her android goes unnoticed.


	8. As soon as She Breathed his name

She didn't think his GPS would come back on. If he shut it off, he would keep it off. So she hadn't kept her tablet looking for his signal. She wasn't expecting him to send her a message either. So she hadn't checked her phone for one. He must have felt guilty for going full steam ahead with his suicide mission when he typed that text. He must have disabled his device before it left his outbox. Once someone found it and started searching through it for information the text finished sending. Technology always finds a way to get the job done, unless of course there is human interference.

She reached for her phone to search for his alias through another database. She felt sick when his message from 37 minutes ago popped up on her screen: 'Love, I have unfinished buisness. I will meet you later at our favorite place. Pack the essentials for both of us... If it turns out that I stand you up, I am truly sorry. Don't waste time. You are the only girl who has my Heart.'She knew what that meant, they were going to be on the run. She hurried to grab the necessary items, their go bags and stashes of money. That text meant they would never be able to come back here. At least she had four days before anyone at work noticed she was missing. If he stood her up she would hunt him down and save him herself or die trying.

She concluded at this point that Oliver must have gotten some lead on Slade, maybe he was baiting him. Or maybe he had just gotten sloppy. He must have Realized the threat this posed, and set out to remedy it. Of course something like this would happen. He was reckless. He was was going to put himself in harms way. He was planning this along.

He Was Planning this. All along. That explained his resistance to her advances. He was afraid that loving her would weaken his resolve. So this was his endgame?

She should have known. The last two years were the calm before the storm. He had finally started telling her how much he loved her, it was all so different from that night. . .

...

She loved Oliver, she really did. After all here she was putting her self in harms way to save him, with the four words she had longed to hear him spoke replaying in her mind. The feigned emotion of them burning into her. It was all wrong. It wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't real. He had asked her if she understood. Oh, she understood. He needed her. That was always why she stayed. He needed her, but not to help him heal. Not as a partner a lover or friend, he needed her as a tool. She was a distraction. An arrow for him to aim at an enemy. She was willing to put her life in jeopardy. Maybe one day he would need her as more.

She nervously gripped the syringe in her pocket. Waiting at Queen manor for swift death to arrive by the name of Slade Wilson.

She expected him to be ruthless with her from the get go. She assumed he would knock her unconscious but Slade had kidnapped her without a fight. Shocking as that was, she knew what needed to be done. So she played along with this handsome madman.

Oliver warned her that he was a cunning man. He never warned her that he was clever, a gentleman, and a man of honor. When he told Felicity his reasons for revenge, what he wanted to accomplish, she almost understood. ALMOST. Still she felt pity for Slade. For who he had become. Not wholly at the hands of an inexperienced Oliver Queen, but he did carry some of the blame for what His brother went through. Oliver was a man of many hurtful secrets. She knew this firsthand. She defended him right away, his actions as the Arrow even. But Slade had a way with words, a way to make her want to know the whole story. By the time the uprising was over she was asking him the questions. Trying to reason with him. Slade told her all she asked, and more than she bargained for.

After her time with Slade she couldn't make the two worlds that she knew meet. The Oliver that she thought she loved could not coexist with the Oliver that had lied to His brother. A brother that saved his life and taught him all he needed to know as a vigilante. They were both so broken. With a heavy heart He had tried to kill that man before he could hurt anyone else. It was for the greater good in his mind. Obsolving the man, his once brother, of his sins. All the while intending to carry the burden of them himself. Adding to the growing mountain of his nightmares.

They were two sides of the same coin placed on a railroad track. Both struggling with guilt and loss, both betrayed by the people closest to them. Both without hope of ever returning home. Even if time stopped, and the whole world was actually waiting with baited breath for their homecoming, they would come home changed. Empty. Hollow. Beaten. Desperate. Forced to change into someone they no longer recognized.

Oliver could never know she had thought this. He would lose faith in himself.

The cure in her pocket felt like the weight of the world. She needed to inject Slade with the cure, not just for Oliver's plan. But as a mercy. He was tortured by visions of Shadow.

She had to decide based on instinct. He had a plan. So did she. She would leave on her own terms.

...

In the car she started a GPS tracker again. Three cell towers picked up his phones signal.

'No.' she breathed. He was in star city. 'No no, no No no, NO.' she pleaded out loud as she dialed his cell. It rang twice before she hears the click that means he answered. Frantic and not thinking it through she begs him to stop. Begs him to change his mind, to just live a life on the run with her. She lost count of how long she had been begging him by name to say something. To prove that he loved her by leaving this all behind. 'I never asked you to change, but I am begging you now.' she groveled. Hearing no response nor a dial tone that signaled him ending the call, she continued: 'I choose you because I thought you needed me more than anyone else did. Well now I know I was wrong, I need YOU more. Baby you don't have to do this.' Hearing a familiar gasp of surprise on the other line that did not belong to him shook her to her core. She was too late.

She knew she made a mistake as soon as she breathed his name.

His real name: Slade.


End file.
